Black Metallic
by Anais Ninja
Summary: Earth-born:Sole Survivor:mostly Paragon FemShepxGarrus. Discretion is the better part of valor, in and out of combat. All Mass Effect are belong to the lovely people at BioWare, the writing is mine. R & R always appreciated.
1. Control

Commander Kit Shepard curled up on her bunk, reading Frank Herbert's _Dune _in blissful silence. No matter that she'd read it fifty times before, or that the story was over two hundred years old. The intergalactic messiah tale would always be her favorite.

There were three souvenirs Kit kept from her life on Earth. One was this beloved wreck of a paperback. Another was a video file of Akira Kurosawa's _Seven Samurai. _Third was the vividly scarlet hair she'd acquired as a young thug, from a back-alley gene manipulator. She could have changed it back, but it served to remind of where she was from, and how far she'd come. Somehow it still suited her.

Many months had passed since she could afford the simple leisure of reading. But now the mission to eliminate Saren and the imminent threat of the Reapers had come to an end. Both the Council and the Alliance were pleased with the crew's achievements, along with Kit's success as the first human Spectre. And while this was a source of pride, thinking about it was somehow exhausting. Better to read about changing the course of the universe from a warm bed, just for the day. Once the _Normandy_ reached the Citadel, everyone could enjoy some well-deserved downtime.

"Commander Shepard?" Joker's voice called from the intercom. "Presence requested on the bridge, ma'am."

"On my way, Joker." Running a hand through her cropped hair, Kit sighed and put her book aside. The fate of Arrakis could wait.

Striding onto the command deck, Shepard noticed a distinctly festive air in the room. Crew members chatted with one another and gathered around the helm of the ship. Joker waved his hand with a flourish towards the flight monitor, which showed their steady approach to the Citadel. "ETA to Flux and Chora's Den, approximately one hour and forty-five minutes!"

An ominously dark liquid was the drink of choice on deck, and was present in disturbing quantities. Catching sight of the commander on the bridge, Kaidan beckoned her over and handed her a glass.

"Liara's secret recipe." The LT informed her, slinging an arm around the lovely asari doctor. Kaidan had decided that the bookish type suited him after all, Shepard observed with a smile.

"Not what most would consider an intoxicating beverage, Commander." Liara's cheeks flushed twilight as she struggled to explain. "It's a decoction made from plants native to Thessia - very popular at young people's gatherings. One cannot get dehydrated from consuming large quantities, nor does it compromise your motor skills. One could describe it as, oh, how can I explain...?"

"It's like a relaxed alcohol buzz without the clumsiness, stupidity or hangover." Kaidan finished, giving Liara a quick kiss.

"Perfect occasion for it. Nice work, Liara!" Shepard nodded and took a sip. Vaguely sweet, a bit fruity - the following sip was somehow different. As was the next. Pleasant, if evasive. She reasoned that one had to drink more in order to find out what it would taste like next. The warm, tingly feeling only added incentive. She helped herself to another glass.

Navigating through the crowd, Shepard made her way from the main deck down to the lower quarters of the ship. The engine room was alive with rabid tech banter; Tali, Engineer Adams and the other machinists had obtained a private stash of Liara's brew for their own celebration. They'd scored quite a bit of alien machinery over the course of the mission, which they were now cheerfully dissecting and studying in closer detail.

Wrex had abstained from the merriment, and cleaned weapons in meditative silence; much the same, she realized with a pang of nostalgia, as Chief Ashley Williams. Across from the gunnery, Garrus busied himself with some final repairs to the Mako. Shepard was not surprised that they had avoided the festivities. It was the mark of a consummate warrior: animated and formidable in combat, restless and awkward otherwise. She had learned to maintain an amicable calm, after much practice. But her heart always went out to the soldiers who struggled.

Noticing her approach, Garrus inclined his head in way of greeting. "Commander."

Shepard leaned against one of the Mako's oversize tires. "Not much on big social events?"

The turian shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Makes two of us. You mind some company?"

"Not at all."

She noted how Garrus's eyes shifted from flat gray to luminous dark blue, that he pitched his voice just a bit lower. Subtlety was elevated to an art form by the turians, and Shepard was no Bene Gesserit. But from what she could tell, he was pleased for the companionship, as opposed to humoring a nosy superior officer.

"I wanted to thank you, Garrus. This was a hell of a mission, and you've been an instrumental member of this crew. It's been an honor to have you on board."

"It's been an honor to serve with you, Shepard. I've learned a lot."

"Any thoughts about returning to the Citadel?" Her dark brows raised in inquiry.

Garrus did not hesitate to respond. "You've shown me that there are many ways one can approach and resolve conflict, for which I'm grateful. My time on the _Normandy_ has also made me realize that I cannot remain in C-Sec for any longer than need be. I plan to reapply for Spectre training as soon as possible."

Shepard nodded, in approval as well as understanding. "I thought that you might. Your work on the _Normandy_ speaks highly of your abilities. I've given the Council a recommendation on your behalf."

This gesture took Garrus somewhat by surprise. "Thank you. I appreciate that very much."

She shrugged lightly. "The least I can do for an exceptional crew member."

"Has the Council given any indication of what plans they have for you next?" He asked, politely shifting the topic.

"Not yet. Guess it'll be R & R until then." She was a quiet for a moment, then shook her head. "It's strange. Shore leave always sounds good. The moment I step off ship? It's like someone turned the volume down on the world. It's okay if I'm alone in my room, or with other folks from my unit. But if it's just being around civilians? I feel like I was dropped in from an entirely different galaxy. You ever get that?"

Garrus studied the commander carefully. It was an unusual sentiment coming from her. His dark eyes curiously met her clear gray gaze. She wasn't speaking in jest. He nodded slowly. "I think that's why the majority of my race remain in military service."

"If you're busy with other obligations, I understand." Kit rubbed the back of her neck and looked at him pointedly. "But I'd like to spend some time with you off-duty."

Commander Shepard was a better master of her emotions than most humans, though Garrus still read her with relative ease. He had known she was attracted to him, but stowed this at the back of his mind, where he knew it belonged. They were soldiers first, and both of them were accustomed to putting the greater good before their personal feelings.

But soon there would be shore leave.

Garrus's eyes flickered, darkened, then shone before he spoke. "Yes. I think I would like that."


	2. Reflection

Garrus returned to his personal quarters before meeting up with the crew at Flux. A couple of his fellow turians had been kind enough to look after his vivarium while he was away. They were always ready to offer their help in tending the little slice of their home world. But he wanted to check up on it anyway. He'd missed the quiet company of his plants and creatures. It would also be a good place to reflect on his thoughts about Shepard.

Once inside his home, the familiar surroundings put Garrus's mind at ease. It felt good to be immersed in the resplendent greens and blues of native plant life. He'd taken much time to create a self-sustaining habitat in this small area. Most of his living space was enshrouded with a fine, translucent mesh to retain heat and moisture. Specially glazed lenses were fitted over the lights to replicate the spectrum of Palaven's pale sun. He'd built an irrigation system with a series of surface and subterranean tiers and strategic layers of porous rock. Free-flowing water above ground was filtered passively through the stone and into the underground reservoir, which in turn was cycled back by pumps.

Finding the ecosystem control panel, Garrus increased the ambient temperature, daylight duration and reactivated the normal water cycle. Nearly all Palaven plant species had the ability to store water through dry spells; the changes in light, warmth and humidity would bring them out of stasis. With the renewed flow of water and higher temperatures, animals that had sought shelter underground would soon emerge from hibernation. It wouldn't be long before vivarium was active and blooming again.

Kneeling on a cushion beneath a fall of indigo vines, Garrus took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. Where to begin?

At the onset of the mission, Garrus was uncertain how Shepard felt about having alien races on board the _Normandy_. She treated him more formally than the rest of the crew, and requested his assistance for the more difficult assignments. It wasn't long before he realized that this was a sign of implicit respect and trust. This was such a turian gesture of compliment that he felt foolish for not recognizing it immediately.

Over the course of his service, his interest in the Commander had grown from polite admiration to intrigue. Her sense of honor and discipline appealed to him, naturally. Not only was Shepard's prowess in combat intimidating, she possessed the ability to negotiate consensus in volatile situations. She wasn't made a Spectre merely as a token to humans; her formidable skills made her fully deserving of the title.

Garrus wasn't sure if he found Shepard physically attractive – it was difficult for another species to gage, he supposed. The shock of crimson hair and darkly painted lips against her pale skin appeared to defy the human standard of female beauty. But he didn't mind looking at her.

His interest was not solely platonic. Nor was Shepard's.

He was curious as to where such thoughts and feelings might lead. His impulse to act was tempered not only by deference, but also the factor of the unknown. He wouldn't exactly call it fear.

Garrus was aware of the basics of human physiology, as well as that of all other races of Citadel space. This was a given for any officer in C-Sec, as they were trained to provide first aid until proper medical help arrived.

But the differences between turian and human anatomy were significant, if not immediately detectable. The specifics of her race's sexual anatomy and ritual would be as foreign to Garrus as that of the turians were to Shepard.

He also suspected that neither of them would be sufficiently deterred by this.

Stretching his limbs as he stood up, Garrus took another deep breath. His mind felt clearer, as it often did with a bit of time spent in his sanctuary. Dealing with the outside world of noise and people would be easier now. It was time to join up the crew at Flux.


	3. Still

Shepard had told her crew mates to head over to Flux, with the promise that she would meet up with them shortly. Her business with the Council was brief; it boiled down to a few 'atta-girls' and formal thank-you to the crew of the _Normandy_ for saving the galaxy's collective ass. She graciously accepted the Council's heartfelt, if surreal, gratitude, and took her leave.

Descending one of the staircases from Citadel Tower, Kit admired the view of flowering trees and fountains below. The sight of a clear, unguarded body of water would always be a novelty for her. Lakes and rivers were viewed solely as commodities on Earth, particularly in cities. If it wasn't for the oceans, most people would have had little idea that water was a naturally occurring feature of the planet.

The urge to shuck off her boots and get her feet wet was sudden and unexpected. _I'll take a long shower later_, Kit thought, walking briskly out of the stairwell. The Citadel's temperature felt stuffy compared to the _Normandy_, and honestly a little too warm for comfort. _Virmire would have been nice for a swim, if it hadn't been crawling with geth. Next time I'm there, I'll go swimming. _She reasoned with herself. _Though who knows when that will be. _

Looking around, Kit could see that the courtyard was deserted and dim. Soft lighting beneath the trees made lacy shadows on the walls and floors. Walking past a shallow pool, she paused to watch how the light danced lazily over the surface of the water. _It's probably not even safe to bathe in_, she thought.

_But if it wasn't, why would it be out in public like this?_

A curious smile crept across Kit's lips, as she regarded the water with renewed interest.

Making a quick perimeter check about the room, she was satisfied that she was indeed alone. She took a seat under a flowering cherry tree and loosened the buckles from knee to ankle. This idea sounded better the more she thought about it. Her feet had been cramped up in hot boots for what seemed like forever. A nice soak in the cool water would be a refreshing treat.

Kit sat on the tiled edge of the shallow pool, and rolled up the pant legs of her fatigues. Stretching one foot over the surface, she carefully dipped in one toe. Not too chilly - it was just right. With a relaxed sigh, she pulled her other leg over and into the pool.

Chuckling to herself, she splayed out her toes and splashed her feet. She watched as the turbulence smooth out into waves, then spread into ripples. The gentle motion made the lily pads bob and spin. Kit waited, then kicked her feet again.

Under water, her toes looked eerily pale and long. Otherworldly. Kit crossed her legs at the ankles, so her feet fanned out like a fish's tail. She wondered what the talons of a turian looked like, without the boots. _Or the body beneath the armor, _she half-smiled to herself.

It was difficult to imagine. And Kit had tried. Turian faces looked plate-like, metallic, almost immovable. Still, their bodies moved with grace and agility. Their skin couldn't be as brittle as it appeared – not all of it. Would it be smooth and flexible, like the stem of a plant? Or might it be pliantly scaled, as a fish would be? It was said by some that turians resembled birds; was it possible that they were feathered?

She supposed that wondering about it was of little use, if she could find out such things for herself. So long as a particular turian acquaintance had no objections.

_I should dry off and get going,_ Kit reminded herself. She'd rather not get caught playing in the fountain by anyone. The crew would be expecting her soon. And so would Garrus.


End file.
